Journeying Beyond Words
by Steerpike
Summary: Ginny and Harry getting to know each better through the exchange of letters. AU.
1. Hedwig's Return

**Chapter One**

_**Hedwig's Return**_

In the sky above Privet Drive in Little Whinging, Surrey, clouds were growing darker and the wind was picking up. Harry Potter sat cross-legged on the floor against his bed, chin in his hand, staring glumly out of the window. Never had the weather more perfectly suited his mood, he thought to himself. It was a bleak and miserable day, rain splattering against the glass, the wind whistling harshly through the cracks in the windowsill... perfect.

A small tap at the windowpane startled Harry. With some trepidation, he maneuvered himself over to the glass and peered out, brushing his unruly black hair out of his eyes. Beady eyes peered back at him. Harry jumped back in fright before letting out a sigh of relief, realising it was only his owl, Hedwig.

"Hedwig!" Harry scolded gently, opening the window and letting the sodden bird in. "Where've you been? I've been worried sick! Even Uncle Vernon asked why you hadn't been making a racket!"

Hedwig gave Harry an inquiring look as she shook her wet feathers on Harry's bed. She dropped the letters she was carrying and looked expectantly at her cage. Harry opened the cage door and let her in. Hedwig was soon resting, eyes closed, pretending not to listen.

Harry locked his window and resumed staring out at the rain. He noticed the clouds beginning to part over the next suburb and blue sky peeking through. He sighed; there was always some light to shine through on his storms.

Disgruntled, he flopped down against the wall and gazed around his room. Always the same bare existence. His packed trunk, a meal tray, a bottle of water, Hedwig's cage and his bed with the same old linen that his cousin Dudley had outgrown a good ten years previously. Harry crossed his arms and again wished bitterly to himself that he didn't live here, that the school term had started and that he could be at Hogwarts with the people who cared about him.

Not, Harry thought bitterly, that those people who cared about him seemed to miss him during summer break. He'd read the letters they sent; always on about things they'd been up to and never asking about him and how he felt, spending the holidays in a bedroom with only an owl for company. Hedwig wasn't even there half the time.

Harry looked down at the floor, remembering suddenly that Hedwig had been carrying mail. Sure enough, there were two letters on the floor; a bit wet and rumpled but that hardly mattered, it was news from the outside! One from Hermione, and another from the Burrow. Ron, he supposed. He opened Hermione's first.

"_Dear Harry_," Harry read aloud to Hedwig.

"_'Hope you're having a brilliant summer, even though I know you're stuck with the Dursleys, rotten luck.'_

"Ha! If only she knew how rotten," Harry said sourly to himself.

"_'I'm looking forward to the school term going back on the first of September, and have already begun studying for it. I can hardly wait to see what surprises we get in Arithmancy this year!_'

"She's crazy, I can't be bothered reading all that," Harry said, tossing the letter on the floor.

Hedwig opened one eye and eyed him beadily.

Harry shrugged despondently. He didn't feel like explaining himself to a bird. He tore open the letter from Ron.

"_'Dear Harry. Hi! Hope you're having a decent enough summer with your family. I've been having a fairly good one here at our place, though it'd be better if you were here with us, as Mum keeps pointing out.'_

"Hmmm, Ron must've been practising his handwriting, this is really neat," Harry said, surprised.

Harry continued reading.

_'George and Fred have been taking me out flying when Mum hasn't been looking, which has turned out to be really excellent. I don't know how you're so good at flying after the Snitch; I tried to chase a leaf blowing in the wind and fell off the broom and broke my wrist. Mum was really annoyed with Fred and George, and has confined me to the house. She says that they're a really bad influence on me, and ought to be ashamed of themselves. Fred told Mum that if they started feeling ashamed of all the bad things they'd done to me, they'd probably commit themselves to St. Mungo's for psychiatric treatment. Mum is currently not speaking to either Fred or George._'

Harry laughed out loud, surprising both himself and Hedwig.

"I can just imagine it, Hedwig!" Harry told the bird. "Oh, I wish I was at The Burrow with Ron."

Hedwig ruffled her feathers disdainfully.

"I know; I'm stuck here." Harry rolled his eyes. He looked back down at the letter and continued to read.

Minutes later, Harry gasped in surprise and dropped the letter. He stared at it in shock. Hedwig hooted softly. Harry put a finger to his lips automatically. He picked up the letter and reread the last paragraph. He replaced the letter in the envelope, rocking on his heels. He got up decisively and rustled through his trunk. He found what he was looking for and set to work.

Hedwig watched Harry dip his quill in his inkpot and scratch at a piece of parchment. He wrote fervently, his face scrunched in thought, and his leg at an odd angle on the floor behind him. Harry stayed that way, writing for what seemed to Hedwig to be a very long time; much longer than the times he usually spent writing to Ron.

Finally, Harry sealed his letter. He retrieved his wand from his trunk and tapped the letter with it, whispering words Hedwig didn't catch. Harry looked over at Hedwig.

"Ready for another trip, old girl?" He asked softly.

Hedwig kept her eyes tightly shut.

Harry rapped on the cage sharply. "Hedwig!"

Hedwig opened one eye sleepily.

"Don't play that old game with me, Hedwig," Harry said, grinning at her. "I really need you to take this letter to The Burrow."

Hedwig stretched her wings.

"Please," Harry added as an afterthought.

Hedwig hopped out of her cage and waited patiently while Harry tied the letter to her leg.

"Make sure it gets to Ginny," he said.

Hedwig hooted.

"Shhh!" Harry said. "And hurry back, I'm completely bored around here without you. Just give it to whoever's in the kitchen."

Hedwig blinked at Harry, and hopped over to the window. Harry unlocked it, and let the bird out. Hedwig flapped her wings and flew off.

"HARRY POTTER!" came a thunderous roar from behind Harry's locked door. "IF YOU CAN'T SHUT THAT RUDDY BIRD UP--"

"Shhh!" Harry could hear Aunt Petunia admonishing her husband. "The neighbours will hear!"

The couple moved off down the corridor, Uncle Vernon muttering expletives and Aunt Petunia repeating, "Really, Vernon!" at various intervals.

Harry sighed, and looked out the window at Hedwig's far-off form flying over rooftops. Flopping back onto his bed, Harry traced patterns in the air and dreamt about flying on his Nimbus over those same rooftops to deliver a letter to The Burrow. He shook his head, and readied himself for bed.

Flipping the switch to turn off his light, Harry curled up in his bed and tried to clear his mind so he could sleep. There wasn't any use waiting up for Hedwig; she'd hang around at The Burrow as long as possible. She always had room to do as she pleased there. Envious, Harry drifted off to sleep.


	2. Mail For The Burrow

**Chapter Two**

_**Mail For The Burrow**_

"SCORE!" Ron Weasley hollered. "Look, Mum, it's Hedwig at the window! It's only taken Harry two weeks to reply to my letter!"

Ron opened the window and let the wet owl in. Hedwig shook her feathers in disgust. Ron was grinning as he took the letter from her leg.

"I wonder what he's got to say?" Ron began pulling at the scroll, and stopped short when it wouldn't budge.

"It's been magically sealed!" Ron said in surprise. "Harry's not allowed to do magic while we're not at school, I wonder what he's up to?"

Molly Weasley, Ron's mother, came over from the sink and peered at the letter.

"Oh, Ron, it hasn't been magically sealed at all!" Molly admonished him. "Look, it's addressed to Ginny, not you. Harry probably instructed the seal not to break for anyone but Ginny. Common practice in olden day wizarding communities; the seal itself has magical properties. Just tap it with your wand, tell the seal who the letter is for, and Merlin's your wizard. Harry's probably been studying – like you should be!"

Ron's face reddened.

"I haven't got time, have I?" He snapped. "I've got better things to do."

"Harry doesn't," Molly reminded Ron gently. "Now give Ginny her letter."

Ron looked at the scroll.

"Why's Harry writing to Ginny?" he asked petulantly.

Molly shrugged.

"Neither of us will know if you don't give it to Ginny, will we?"

Fred and George Weasley, Ron's older twin brothers, chose that moment to troop through the door, dirty from playing Quidditch in the yard, scattering mud everywhere with grins from ear to ear.

"Honestly!" Molly despaired. "You two are perfectly capable of cleaning yourselves before walking through that door!"

"Spoils the fun," George said cheerfully, settling into one of the kitchen chairs and grabbing one of the freshly baked biscuits on the table.

"Stop that!" Molly swatted at George. "They're for company!"

"Oh, come on," Fred said, his mouth stuffed with biscuit. "'Sif we ever have company!"

Molly put her hands on her hips.

"We've had unexpected company plenty of times before. If you don't stop eating all my biscuits, I'll put a charm on them so you can't touch them!" she threatened.

"Fair go," Fred said, shuffling out of the kitchen towards the stairs. "I only wanted one any- phwoar! Ginny! Watch where you're going, will ya?"

Ginny appeared in the doorway, looking haughtily back at Fred.

"I'm not the one who was muttering at the ground as he walked!" she snapped.

"Now, now, you two," Molly said tiredly. "Ginny, dear, good morning. How did you sleep?"

"Alright," Ginny shrugged and settled herself at the table. "Is there anything to eat?"

"Oh, there's plenty, dear, what would you like?" Molly asked.

"A letter came for you this morning." Ron said, watching Ginny carefully.

Ginny looked up, her cheeks slowly turning crimson.

"From who?" she asked casually.

Ron waited a few moments until he had George's attention before answering.

"Harry."

"Harry!" George crowed. "What's he writing to Gin-Gin for?" He snatched at the scroll, and yelped in pain as Ginny whacked him.

"Give me that!"

"No fun," George muttered, leaving the kitchen. "None at all."

Ginny stood up, clutching the letter.

"I might wait until lunch to eat," she said casually, before turning toward the door.

"Oh, aren't you hungry, Ginny?" Molly asked. "Are you sure, dear? I could whip up"-

"Honestly, it's okay," Ginny assured her, before hurrying out of the room.

"Hmm." Ron sat back in his chair, frowning. "I didn't know Ginny still liked Harry."

"Liked him!" Molly said, absorbed in watching figures of her family in a frame fight with each other. "She got over him ages ago, dear."

"Doesn't seem that way to me," Ron said sulkily.

"Now, now, Ron. You told me you'd rather Ginny dated Harry instead of Dean. I distinctly remember it."

Molly jumped and then rolled her eyes as Pigwidgeon, Ron's owl, came crashing into the window.

"Now that's something Errol would do," she said dryly, wincing as the owl gave a hoot of pain.

"Yeah, but that was when she was dating Dean," Ron said uncomfortably, picking at some lint on his sleeve. "Now she's not."

"Yes. Now she's not." Molly gave Ron a level look, before hurrying out to pick up Pig.

"And that's the problem," Ron muttered to himself.


	3. Rapturous

**Chapter Three**

_**Rapturous**_

Ginny lay sprawled out on her bed, eyes closed, letter from Harry on her stomach. Her lips were curled in the happiest smile she had felt for a long time.

She rolled over and glanced out of the window. Clouds were floating lazily by, and her smile became even broader. She watched, grinning, as a garden bird landed on her windowsill, chattering away. She opened the window slowly, beckoning to the bird. Cautiously, the bird hopped toward her.

Still smiling, Ginny held out a finger. The bird hopped closer and closer, and finally, hopped onto her finger, chatting away at her.

Ginny giggled. "It is indeed a beautiful day! I agree!" She replaced the bird on the windowsill, and left the window slightly ajar.

Ginny snuggled back into the pillows on her bed with a contented sigh. Glancing down at the letter on her stomach, she contemplated opening it.

Taking the plunge, Ginny took an ornate knife from her desk that her father insisted that Muggles used to open letters. Ginny eased the blade of the knife under the seal and slit through it. To her surprise, it actually worked. She'd have to report that to her father at dinnertime, he'd be pleased. He was easily pleased with all Muggle contraptions that worked.

Ginny gently uncurled the letter and settled back into the pillows on her bed to read. She savoured the smell of the parchment and the not-quite-dry ink. She smiled at the hastily written date, and the script of Harry's first words, "Dear Ginny."

There came an abrupt knock at the door. Startled, Ginny shoved the parchment under her pillow, and, straightening her bedspread, she called, "Yes?"

The door opened slowly, and Ron poked his head around the doorframe.

"Hey, Ginny, what're you doing today?" Ron asked casually.

Ginny frowned at her brother.

"I'm busy today. Why?"

"What are you going to be busy doing?" Ron asked innocently.

"None of your business!" Ginny snapped, fully suspicious of Ron's motives for interruption.

"I was only asking!" Ron said hotly, before slamming the door and thumping all the way down the stairs, probably to complain to their mother.

Ginny heaved a sigh and retrieved Harry's letter from under her pillow. She smoothed the creases, muttering about useless brothers.

Ginny took a deep breath, and read the letter aloud to herself.

"_Dear Ginny. Glad to hear from you! Yeah, I'm having a fairly awful time at the Dursleys' this summer. They've locked me in my room with only Hedwig for company, and she's not even here half the time. Lucky bird' I'd like to be soaring all over the countryside without a care. Still, that means that it's been quiet and uneventful here so that's something to be thankful for. I haven't talked to Dudley in over a month, and that's always something to celebrate."_

Ginny giggled to herself. She closed her eyes, remembering the time that Fred and George had given Dudley a sweet from their stock of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes collection. The poor boy didn't know what hit him!

"_Aunt Petunia always puts some sort of food in here morning and night, so really, I shouldn't complain. I've got Hedwig, food, peace and quiet, regularly scheduled bathroom intervals and heaps of free time to study for next year at Hogwarts. Of course I'd rather be hanging out with my friends and having fun but at least the teachers'll be pleased that I've finally caught up on all the things that I should've known at the beginning of last year._

"_You said that you broke your wrist – I was sorry to hear that, Gin, are you okay now? Breaking (or losing!) bones is never fun. Did your parents have to take you to St. Mungo's to get it fixed or can they perform healing spells? (A good thing you didn't have Gilderoy Lockheart there, much as your mum would've enjoyed it!). Muggles have to get their wrist put in a plaster cast and wait weeks for it to heal naturally so at least you got the wizarding option!"_

Ginny smiled and rubbed her wrist ruefully. It was almost totally normal now. It still twinged occasionally, but the doctor said that was a side effect of healing with magic, and that it'd probably be worse if she let it heal naturally. She'd been quite interested to learn that some Muggles can predict the rain when their once-broken joints ache. She'd hoped that her wrist might demonstrate some weather forecasting abilities now but no luck yet.

"_You mentioned Quidditch – now there's something I miss. I wish I could have been there with you, Fred and George."_

"Oh, don't you worry, Harry, I wish that too." Ginny grinned cheekily to herself.

"_I always worry that I will have lost my touch with Quidditch over summer break but my broomstick always remembers me and I need to only soar into the air to feel at one with it all again. Amazing how sometimes something can feel so right, isn't it?"_

"Isn't it just," Ginny remarked to herself, glancing at her reflection momentarily as she looked at a picture of herself, Harry, Ron and Hermione at the train station before last summer break. She was surprised to see that she looked a little wistful.

"_So, you said that Hermione will be coming to stay with you guys a week before you go to London. That's great. I'm sure that'll be a lot of fun for you all. I'm not sure how I'm getting to London yet. Uncle Vernon is never too pleased when I have to ask him to take me, but I guess as he hasn't seen me for most of the break, he'll be a bit more lenient. _

"_I have to say that I've been feeling really homesick lately for Hogwarts and for all you guys. I can't wait until it's time to go back. Well, less than four weeks to go, which is always a bonus. I was really pleased to receive your letter just now, Ginny; it's been so boring and lonely here without someone to talk to properly. Write back to me soon, will you? I'd really appreciate it. Thanks, Ginny. You're a pal. Cheers. Love Harry."_

Ginny sighed rapturously, clutching the letter to her chest. Soon, she opened her eyes and reached for her quill. A thought occurred to her.

"Surely I won't seem to eager if I write back straight away?" Ginny asked her reflection. "I don't want to seem desperate or as if I've got nothing better to do than sit around and wait for Harry's letters. I mean, I don't, but he doesn't have to know that. Oh—I don't know..."

Ginny's reflection yielded no answers. Ginny stared at it longer, hoping it'd speak out and tell her that it wasn't too soon to reply.

Ginny gave up and picked up her quill decisively.

"It won't be too early to reply. He said he's bored and lonely, and I'll be doing a charitable thing, to ease his boredom," Ginny reasoned. "Yes. He'll be thankful, not suspicious."

There came a thump at the door. Ginny dropped her quill in fright at the sound. She sighed in annoyance at the interruption. "What?"

"It's only me!" Ron's response came. "Mum wants you to help her in the kitchen!"

"I'll do it later!" Ginny hollered back.

"You won't!" Ron threatened, banging against the door. "Mum said to get you to help NOW!"

Ginny got off her bed and stalked angrily to the door, whipping it open and glaring at Ron.

"Why can't YOU do it?" Ginny roared at her brother.

"Because YOU HAVE TO DO IT!" Ron roared back.

"Ronald! Virginia!" Molly Weasley's voice came drifting up the stairs. "Stop it at once!"

Ron poked his tongue out at Ginny and walked down the stairs, singing softly, "You have to he-elp, you have to he-elp..."

Ginny slammed her door in disgust.

"NOW!" Ron hollered.

"ALRIGHT!" Ginny screamed back. She slumped back against the door, fighting tears, her throat aching. She wanted so badly to write back to Harry. She rubbed her eyes and winced as a tear slipped down her cheek. She swallowed shakily and wanted to scream at the throbbing ache in her throat.

"Alright..." Ginny whispered, her voice thick. She turned, opened the door and left the room.


	4. Tickled Pink

**Chapter Four**

_**Tickled Pink**_

Three days later, Harry was sprawled on his bed, frowning over his Potions essay.

"... Cite three different potions in which wolfsbane is used and describe the positive and negative effects that it has on the potion, from where it originates and how much of it is considered excessive."

Harry groaned. "Surely that has to be the single-most boring and mundane essay topic Snape's given us yet, the old bat." His brow creased as he remembered a particularly nasty one from third year. "Ugh. Maybe not."

Harry yawned and stretched. He looked at Hedwig's empty cage.

"Gone still! Wretched, lucky bird," Harry muttered. "If only to spread my wings and fly all over the night sky..."

Glancing out at the window, Harry noticed that the clouds had darkened and the sky seemed foreboding. He shivered and started to draw the curtains before noticing a speck in the sky, gradually coming closer towards him.

Harry frowned, and squinted, trying to make out the shape. Snowy white and moving quickly... Hedwig! Back! He opened the window quickly and quietly, trying to contain his excitement. Hedwig back so soon could only mean one thing; mail!

Hedwig swooped into the room and landed on Harry's bed, chattering away quietly. Harry shut the window, turned and grinned at Hedwig.

"You got something there for me, old girl?" Harry asked her.

Hedwig ruffled her feathers, shaking off some beads of water she had acquired during the journey and extended one leg. Harry knelt beside her and gently untied the roll of parchment. Hedwig gratefully stretched her leg before hopping into her cage and settling in for the night.

Harry unrolled the parchment and smiled. _Ginny. _He lay back on his bed, squashing his Potions notes and not really caring. He absently wound some hair around his finger as he read, smiling occasionally. Hedwig observed all this from her cage and decided not to bother.

"_Harry. You're right, we probably haven't spoken so much in our entire lives before but hey, it gives me something to do and surely it gives you a good excuse to get away from icky essays. I've got a pretty bad one from McGonagall at the moment that I just can't seem to start. I s'pose I'd better start soon or I'll run out of holidays in which to do it. I got a letter from Hermione yesterday saying that she'd finished her all homework and was going over it with a thesaurus, trying to figure out which words she could substitute for more intelligent sounding ones. I replied and suggested that she get a hobby. Bet she won't take too kindly to that one..."_

Harry reached out and tickled Hedwig under her chin, his cheeks unusually flushed.

Hedwig opened her beak and tried to nip at him in annoyance.

"Sorry!" Harry laughed.

Hedwig closed her eyes, ignoring Harry.

Harry contemplated the letter in front of him. He reached for his quill.

_Nine days later at the Burrow_

"But, Mum!" Ron protested loudly. "He hasn't replied! I vote we go get him."

Molly hung up her coat on the peg in the hall with a sigh. She turned to look at an irate Ron.

"Ronald. How many times must I repeat myself? You're making a mountain out of a molehill." Molly took off her boots and walked briskly toward the kitchen. "Really, from the way you were acting, you'd think that Harry had committed a cardinal sin."

"He hasn't replied to my letter!" Ron replied in an injured tone.

Molly rolled her eyes and went to check the oven. "Hmm..." She opened the door and gingerly tested the top of the cake with a skewer. "Another ten minutes, I think."

Ron had followed Molly into the kitchen, glowering. "I'm beginning to think that he needs to be rescued so he can have some fun during the holidays."

Molly opened the fridge. "Why? Just because he hasn't replied to your letter? Where has George put the milk?"

Ron cast his eyes around the kitchen before replying. "It's on the sink. And yes, because he hasn't replied. He might be stuck doing chores at the Dursleys' house or something! Or... or... maybe he's being forced to hang out with his cousin, and hasn't had a moment to himself to reply! Or..."

"Why is it on the sink? Oh, George!" Molly took a great whiff of the milk and wrinkled her nose. "I'll have to throw that one out. That's disgusting. GEORGE WEASLEY! GET IN HERE NOW!"

"Don't you think?" Ron asked persistently.

"What?" Molly looked at Ron tiredly. "Ron, I'm sorry, I just don't think that there's any great rush to go and rescue Harry just because he hasn't replied to your letter. He doesn't seem to be in any great danger."

George entered the kitchen. "Umm... yes, Mum?" he asked politely.

Molly jabbed a finger toward the milk bottle. "What is the meaning of this, George? Why did you leave it on the sink so that it could go off?"

"Um..." George looked behind him for support from Fred but found none. "Uh... well, Fred and I read about this charm which stops milk going off, so I thought I'd, uh, cast it on the milk and see if it worked."

Molly frowned. "You were trying to be helpful?"

George nodded emphatically.

"I don't believe it," Molly said bluntly. "But I have no evidence otherwise so I'll let you off for now."

"Thanks Mum!" George skipped out of the kitchen.

Molly picked up the milk bottle and threw it in the garbage can. "Ugh."

"Mum..." Ron said.

"Yes, dear?" Molly was busy adding "milk" to her shopping list on the refrigerator. "I wonder what else we've run out of..."

"How do you know that Harry's safe?" Ron asked petulantly, toeing his shoe across the linoleum.

"Don't do that to the floor, dear," Molly said absently, chewing on her quill as she thought of missing items from her pantry.

"Well? How do you know Harry's okay?" Ron repeated.

"Oh!" Molly turned to Ron, surprised. "Well – because he's been writing to Ginny, of course. I'm sure she would have said something if he wasn't alright."

Ron frowned. "That letter a couple of weeks ago?"

"No," Molly said, her attention drawn to the twins discussing Quidditch techniques in the backyard through the window. "The letters she's been receiving every couple of days or so. I think she got one this morning, actually."

Ron's mouth fell open. "But..."

"Don't ask me!" Molly said, frowning as she watched Fred demonstrate a highly illegal move to George. "What on earth are they doing?" Molly opened the window. "FRED! That's not allowed!"

Ron leaned back against the doorframe, thinking quickly. So Harry and Ginny had been writing letters back and forth for the past couple of weeks, while he, Harry's best friend, got nothing. It was time to pay his sister a little visit.


	5. Technological Advancement

**Chapter Five**

_**Technological Advancement**_

"... So what is it again?" Ginny asked her father, peering at the oddly shaped box sitting on the desk in her father's study. It looked rather like a Muggle television, only what were all those extra cords and boxes doing around it?

"A computer!" Arthur Weasley said excitedly, stroking the top of the box. "Brilliant invention by Muggles, quite recent too!"

"A computer," Ginny said slowly, giving her father a blank look. "Well, what does it do?"

"Do?" Arthur's grin faded. "I haven't figured that out yet."

"Okay," Ginny said, knocking on the side of the box. _Hmm... not really hollow sounding. _"So what's in it?"

"Lots of things!" Arthur beamed. "Wires, metal – you name it, it's in there!"

"And what are all the cords for?" Ginny asked, picking one up dubiously. "This looks a bit like the plug you use for the Muggle kettle."

Arthur looked down at the cord, recognition dawning on his face. "So it does! Let's go try it in the kettle!"

"Um, no," Ginny said, holding it out of her father's reach. "Let's plug it into the computer and see what it does."

Ginny busied herself fitting different shaped plugs and cords into the back of the computer slots. Finally there were none left. She plugged the other ends into the electricity 'power board' thing that her father had brought home the year before, flipped the switch to red and waited expectantly. Nothing happened.

"Maybe... maybe you need to press another button," her father said, looking worriedly at the computer. "My colleague did say that it worked!"

_Sure. _Ginny grimaced to herself. She examined the biggest box more closely and discovered some words printed on it. They were upside down, so Ginny craned her neck to read them properly.

"Power..." Ginny read, her neck already aching. "I think this is it, Dad." She pressed the button. A whirring noise began promptly, lights flashing. Ginny and Arthur jumped back in shock before leaning in more closely to examine the source of the noise.

"It's working!" Arthur said, positively delighted. "Look at that, Gin!" He ruffled her hair.

"Daaaaad!" Ginny shied away, cheeks glowing.

The whirring noise slowed. Arthur touched the box tentatively.

"What do we do now?" he asked.

"Um..." Ginny looked around her helplessly. "What's that box for? The television bit?"

"Um..." Arthur echoed Ginny's confusion. "Well... I'm not sure, exactly."

Ginny looked at the back of the screen. There were two holes there; a narrow slit filled with tiny holes and another one shaped like the kettle cord.

"There isn't another kettle cord, is there, Dad?"

"No," Arthur said. "What did you do with the other one?"

"Plugged it into the box."

"And?"

"Oh, and I put the other bit in the power board." Ginny looked at the back of the computer. "There's a similar hole here that I've plugged this funny shaped one into."

"Does that plug into the power board too?" Arthur picked up the power board. "There's only one thing plugged into it."

Ginny looked at the television shaped box holes again. She ran her eyes down the length of the odd shaped plug and discovered yet another plug at the end of it.

"Hmm..."

Ten minutes later, Ginny had all the plugs and cords figured out correctly. She'd located a power button on the television box too, and to their great excitement, had seen words and pictures on the screen.

"This is excellent, Ginny, excellent work!" Arthur had praised Ginny exuberantly before rushing out of the room to telephone his work colleague. "I'll ask for instructions, Ginny! Don't break it!"

"I'm not going to break it!" Ginny rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the screen. New pictures were loading across the bottom. A long bar with "start" written in the corner, and a tiny triangular shaped arrow in the centre of the screen. "Peculiar..." Ginny said to herself.

Ron appeared in the doorway of Arthur's office, lounging casually against the doorframe.

"Hey, Gin."

Ginny turned her head around, giving a weak smile.

"Hey, Ron."

Ron took a few steps into the room, looking curiously at the computer. "What're you doing?"

"Trying to figure out this Muggle thing for Dad." Ginny stood up and stretched. "Time for lunch, I think."

"Hang on." Ron extended his arm and grabbed at Ginny's sleeve as she tried to pass. "I was just wondering..."

_Here we go,_ Ginny thought.

"Yes?"

"Um..." Ron looked out at the corridor fleetingly before looking back at Ginny. "Have you heard from Harry lately?"

"What? Why?" Ginny asked defensively.

Ron frowned. "Well, I haven't heard from him and I was worried. Mum said you might've."

"Well, I haven't." Ginny tried to brush past him.

"Ginny." Ron rolled his eyes. "I know you have. Mum said you have."

_Drat. _

"Okay, so maybe I have. What's it to you?" Ginny asked, crossing her arms and staring Ron down.

"I was just wondering if he's okay!" Ron said hotly, his cheeks flushing crimson.

"He's fine. Can I go now?"

"Um... sure." Ron watched, puzzled, as Ginny exited abruptly.


	6. Finding Time To Write

**Chapter Six**

_**Finding Time To Write**_

'_Dear Harry,_

_Today was funny. Dad brought home a computer, don't know if you've heard of them... a strange Muggle invention. It's like a box with a screen attached which shows pictures, much like a Muggle television. Dad was incredibly excited about it. I have to confess that I was a bit excited too! It was fun to assemble. Dad and I had absolutely no idea, of course. I messed around with all the cords and plugs until I figured out which holes they all went into. After a great fiasco, we managed to turn it on. It made plenty of whirring noises and flashed a few green lights for awhile before grinding to a halt. Eventually realised that the screen needed to be plugged in. After I did that, lots of picture and words began appearing on the screen. Cut a long story short, turns out a computer is used for improving hand-eye coordination. There's a small box with a long cord attached that you can move around, and a corresponding triangular shaped arrow on the screen moves with it. Dad happily spent hours moving the arrow around the screen. He says that he's probably got the best hand-eye coordination in the Wizarding World now. I wouldn't be surprised! It's funny though, I wouldn't have thought that Muggles would need such a big box for that sort of thing. I don't know what all the accompanying smaller boxes are for. No doubt they're some sort of extensions to the hand-eye coordination learning program. Don't suppose you know, do you, Harry?_

_It's funny to think that in only three weeks, we'll be back at Hogwarts. I guess you must miss Hogwarts a whole lot during the summer and I don't blame you a bit. I would too. I do, kind of. I miss my friends (and you, of course) but it's always nice to come home to the Burrow. 'It's not much, but it's home,' as Ron always says. It's good to spend time with my parents... a lot of kids don't have that, I know, and you're one of them, I'm sorry, Harry, you must think I'm rubbing it in something chronic. I'm not trying to... just trying to seem deep and meaningful and failing miserably as usual!_

_You mentioned the relationship between Ron and Hermione in your letter. I didn't realise you felt like that about them, Harry. I don't think anyone suspects that! I know that the Daily Prophet is mad keen on the idea of there being an incredible love triangle between you, Ron and Hermione. The truth isn't quite as exotic! I have to agree with you, I think that Ron is incredibly hot for Hermione too but I won't say anything to him... he'd get all defensive and deny it and go red in the face and storm off to his room... predictable as anything. If I as much as mention Hermione he goes beet red, snaps and asks just how I'd know what's going on with Hermione better than he would. The boy has issues._

_Oh that reminds me. Ron is quite bitter that apparently you haven't written to him for awhile. He's snapped at me a couple of times about it now... I don't know what to say to him, I hadn't realised that you weren't writing to him. Slipped your mind? Never mind, he'll forgive you. Just write a quick note to assure him that you aren't being abused! He's got some crazy notion of rescuing you from the Dursleys' place, just in case you were being maltreated, et cetera... funny. _

_I'd love to write more, Harry, but unfortunately dinner is ready and Mum needs me to set the table. I want you to get this soon so I'd best send Pigwidgeon off with it now. Take care, Harry, I'll see you soon._

_Love,_

_Ginny._

Harry took off his glasses with a sigh, rubbing tiredly at his eyes. He'd reread Ginny's letter nine times now and the hour was late. He needed to get to sleep but he didn't fancy dreams just yet.

He reached under his pillow and took out the little stack of letters that was accumulating under there. He untied the string binding them and added Ginny's most recent effort to it, tying it back up gently and replacing it under his pillow. He contemplated the dirty white linen of the pillow for a moment before getting up and moving over to the window.

He gazed out at the night sky, wondering just when life had become so confusing. Nothing made sense anymore. At the beginning of the holidays, he was Harry Potter, sent home from school to live with his detested family for the summer break, was studying magic in his room and looking forward to returning to Hogwarts immensely come September.

Now he was Harry Potter, sent home from school to live with his abhorred family for the entire summer break, had discarded his magic texts in favour of letter writing, spent most of his time daydreaming and didn't give Hogwarts or Ron much thought at all.

He couldn't understand why he didn't write to Ron. He missed Ron, he wanted to see Ron, he always enjoyed reading Ron's letters but somehow he just didn't have the patience or energy to write to Ron. It was just one of those indefinable, puzzling things. Like running hot and cold. Hormones, he supposed. Just plain old hormones.

_Funny though, isn't it, how you always have the energy to write to Ginny?_

Harry's conscience prickled. He needed to write to Ron. He reached for a piece of parchment and his quill. Any note would do.

'_Dear Ron,_

_Hey! How's it all going at the Burrow? It's alright here, I guess, everyone's leaving me alone so I've got plenty of time to myself... I'm even getting fed...'_


	7. Parental Discussions

**Chapter Seven**

_**Parental Discussions**_

"Bahhh," Arthur Weasley muttered, crashing through the front door of the Burrow. He hung up his coat and hat on the peg, shaking the leaves from the coat onto the floor. He reached for his wand, forehead furrowed as he tried to remember a suitable cleaning spell.

"Oh, Arthur!" Molly Weasley stood in the hallway, hands on her hips as she surveyed the mess. "Here I was all ready to give you a welcome home kiss and you've soiled my nice clean carpet!"

Arthur gave Molly a sheepish grin. "I didn't mean to, Molly."

Molly approached him and kissed him on the cheek. She smelt of apples and cinnamon. Arthur brightened.

"You've been making something to do with apples!"

"Yes," Molly said, peering down at the leaves on the floor. "Apple crumble. Now look at this, Arthur. This leaf is from that old tree in the front yard! That one never sheds its leaves until Autumn!"

"Ah well, Molly," Arthur said, his mind on the apple crumble. "It's nearly September, no surprise, really."

"Good gracious, is it?" Molly blinked up at Arthur, startled. "Goodness me! It's August twenty-fourth!"

"Sure is!" Arthur agreed cheerily. "Been a busy week at the Ministry, it has, Molly. A few students enchanting Muggle things in their excitement of heading back to school... awfully tiresome business, reprimanding students, Molly." Arthur put his wand away in his pocket, meaning to head toward the kitchen.

"You can take that look off your face, Arthur, that apple crumble is definitely for dessert," Molly said, taking out her own wand. "Oh, blow it, it can wait. Arthur, I need to have a word with you in the office." Molly looked up at him, smiling sweetly.

Arthur felt his appetite diminish at the prospect of a discussion. "Surely it's not that time of year again already?"

"No, not the finance talk, Arthur – I need to talk about Ginny!" Molly turned her head to check that they were alone. "In your office, Arthur!" She hurried him towards the door.

"What's the rush?" Arthur grumbled, taking her hand. He shut the door behind them and led her over to the couch, sitting down with a thud. He winced as all his Muggle trinkets shook with the force of it. "Oops."

Molly sat beside him, straightening her apron. "Well, Arthur," Molly stopped, casting a Silencing Charm on the room quickly. "_Silencio. _Right. Well, Arthur, it's about the communication between Ginny and Harry lately."

"Harry Potter?" Arthur said absently, his mind on the computer in front of him. "What is its _purpose_?" he mused.

"Arthur. This requires your full attention," Molly snapped, taking back her hand.

Arthur glanced at her in surprise. "Surely a little harmless letter-writing won't go awry?"

"Arthur," Molly said evenly, "She lives for the post. When it arrives, she spends all afternoon and all evening in her room, doing Merlin knows what. It's not healthy. I've asked her if anyone's upset her lately or anything like that, but she just smiled and said that 'no, life was pretty perfect'. Pretty perfect, Arthur! I want to know what's been going on between those two, and I want to know now." Molly crossed her arms.

"Awww..." Arthur smiled. "Doesn't it remind you of our courting days, Molly?"

Molly squinted at him, confused. "Um... no, Arthur, it doesn't. Not at all."

"Well, no, not the letter writing part," Arthur conceded, "but the rapturous romance of it all, Molly!"

"You felt rapturous about me?" Molly asked, somewhat wistfully. _How time flies past._

"Of course!" Arthur said, looking down at her in surprise. "Didn't you feel that way about me?"

"Yes." Molly snuggled against him. "You should say things like that to me more often, Arthur."

"Of course, Molly," Arthur said, his mind already on the shiny magnetic box on the desk in front of him. _Fascinating things, magnets!_ Arthur thought.

"So you don't think we should worry about Ginny, then?" Molly asked after awhile.

"No, not in the least. Harry's a good boy with honourable intentions, I'm sure," Arthur said, picking up the magnet and drawing it slowly away from the box. "Feel the magnetic pull, Molly!"

Molly viewed his play with distaste. "Alright. Well, moving right along, I think it might be time to discuss the finances for this year's Diagon Alley trip. It'll only be Ron and Ginny this year, so shouldn't be too bad."

"Yes, quite," Arthur agreed. After a moment, he looked back at Molly. "That was the whole discussion?"

"Yes." Molly sat back on the couch, content. _Cheap school costs, a loving husband and apple crumble for dessert. Life can't improve much more than this. _Molly smiled at Arthur, who gave her a baffled look and continued playing with his magnets.


	8. Knockturn Alley

**Chapter 8**

_**Knockturn Alley**_

_Dear Diary,_

_I've been thinking about what Harry said in his last letter. I don't really know why we've never been close before. I guess 'cause he's older than me and he's always been close to Ron and Hermione, and now that Ron is older, well, he wouldn't want to hang out with his younger sister. I'm quite good friends with Hermione... but... well, I don't know. Perhaps we can be much better friends this year..._

Ginny put her chin in her hands with a sigh. How to tell Harry exactly that the reason they were never really good friends was because she was too shy to hang out with him? And not just because she was a shy person by nature but because she'd had a crush on him since practically forever? _Scary._

_Today's kind of frightening because we're going to Diagon Alley. And yes, alright, I've been there hundreds of times before but this time it's different. I'm meeting up with Harry. Alone. By ourselves. Without Ron. And... we've been writing letters all summer, and I thought I could detect something in them... something like him maybe liking me back and oh, if only. But today... today has to be the most perfect day. He will meet me and smile and we will walk hand in hand down the road and he will bend down to kiss me and all will be perfect from that moment on. It will be perfect because he's Harry Potter... and I'm... Merlin, I'm Ginny Weasley and he's Harry Potter and what am I THINKING? This is going to be a--_

Molly poked her head around Ginny's open door, disturbing Ginny's writing frenzy. She cleared her throat and Ginny jumped, sending her quill flying.

"Ginny, are you nearly ready to go to Diagon Alley?" Molly asked.

Ginny nodded, not lifting her eyes from her journal.

"What are you writing?" Molly asked curiously. She took a step into the room and looked around.

Ginny looked up quickly, not meeting her mother's gaze. "Nothing."

Molly regarded her suspiciously. "Alright... well, hurry along then."

Ginny nodded again, absorbed in her thoughts. Sighing, Molly backed out and shut the door. Ginny closed her journal and slid it under her mattress. She hugged her pillow to herself. She'd arranged to meet Harry privately at Diagon Alley, and she still hadn't told him how she felt about him_. In fact, how embarrassing is it going to be to see him anyway? I've never communicated with him so much in my entire life, and now all of a sudden, we're revealing our inner-most thoughts to eachanother! It's mortifying! Potentially humiliating! _Ginny could feel her cheeks burning. She didn't know whether to be incredibly excited or desperately afraid. Everything was riding on today.

"Ginny!" Ron opened the door and stuck his head around it. "We're going now!"

"Okay." Ginny slid off her bed and took her hat and her purse. "I'm ready."

"What were you writing?" Ron asked innocently. Ginny's hackles rose.

"Nothing! I wish people would stop asking me!" she shot at him as she stalked past. "How did you know anyway?"

Ron raised an eyebrow. "Sheesh, sorry."

He watched as Ginny departed the scene, frowning to himself. Ginny was _still_ writing to Harry, he knew that much. And not just once or twice a week, but every day! Sometimes twice a day! Ron had received a letter from Harry the other day _finally_, but to his disappointment it hadn't been very exciting; it had just outlined what he'd been doing and 'fondly hoped for the start of the new school year to come quickly'.

Where was the banter? The Quidditch talk? The lamenting of not being with Ron and Hermione?

_Ah, Hermione_...

Ron sighed to himself briefly before returning to the issue at hand. Where was the complaining about Dudley? The screaming about how unfair the Dursleys were to him and how rotten the food was and how Hedwig was only allowed out sometimes and even then how he felt jealous of her? What had happened to turn Harry's letters into the epitome of dullness? Ron rather considered it to be a letter that Harry would have sent Professor McGonagall, not Ron Weasley, his best friend! Something had to be done.

_At the fireplace, ten minutes later_

"Alright, I'll go next," Molly fussed, clutching a fistful of Floo Powder. She stepped into the grate. "Diagon Alley!" _POOMF!_ She was gone.

Arthur winked merrily at Ron and Ginny. "See you there! Don't get lost now!" he joked. "Diagon Alley!" _POOMF!_

Ginny took a handful of the Floo Powder. She started to step into the grate. Ron took her sleeve on impulse.

"Gin," he said curiously. "Gin, are you meeting up with Harry at Diagon Alley?"

Ginny shrugged, not meeting his gaze.

"Ginny," Ron said, raising his eyebrow quizzically. "Surely you are?"

"Yeah," Ginny said slowly, matching his facial expression. "So?"

"When?" Ron asked.

"This afternoon, if you must know," Ginny said, looking back at the grate pointedly.

"Can I come?" Ron asked eagerly. "Will Hermione be there? Can we all go together?"

"Um..." Ginny gave him a panicked look. "I... don't... know. No." She stepped into the grate quickly and cried, "Diagon Alley!"

"Ginny!" Ron said, incensed. _POOMF!_ "Oh, sod!" He jumped in after her. "Diagon Alley!"

_POOMF!_

"Uhhh," Ron moaned, rolling out of a particularly dusty and grimy grate. He blinked, looking around him. This wasn't the usual grate to Diagon Alley... oh, sod, he'd said it wrong. Bollocks. His mother was always at him to enunciate properly when using Floo Powder and it looked like she'd been right. Double bollocks. The room was dark, the wallpaper peeling away from the walls and the carpet moldy and cold. There were hideous trinkets all around him, and an ugly, ugly hag peering down at him.

"Hello, my pretty," she cooed down at him, wagging a finger in his face. "Wrong grate did you come to? Lookit what the cat dragged in, Mister Petals," she said to the cat purring on her lap. Ron squinted at the hag, winced and decided to analyse the situation. He was in a scary room with a hag addressing him with endearments and there was a cat named Mister Petals...

_Time to run._

"Er..." Ron said, getting to his feet and dusting himself off gingerly, "Don't mean to be rude or anything but I gotta run. See ya!"

"Oh, no, no," the hag said delicately, indicating a chair. "Sit."

"Ah, I'd- I'd rather not," Ron said, furtively looking for a door.

"You aren't going anywhere," the hag said, looking up at him with a ghoulish smile. "I've been waiting for a handsome boy like you. What's your name?"

"Um," Ron said, his mind blank. _Handsome boy?_ "Percy. And I'm taken. Have been for years," he added hurriedly. "Practically engaged. Must run. Where's the door?"

"I took the door away years ago. Made no sense to have one. No one ever visits," the hag sulked. "So you're stuck here with me forever."

Ron finally spotted a window. He pulled his wand out of his pocket. "Much as I'd like to, I can't. Wife at home. Seventeen kids. Job. Responsibilities. Sorry about the window, the Reparo charm ought to fix it." Ron took up a heavy book from the table and launched it at the window, shattering the glass. "Bye!" He clambered through the window, out of the little yard and through the grimy, darkened streets of Knockturn Alley before coming to a halt in Diagon Alley, covered in dirt and panting with exertion.

"Ron!" Hermione rushed up to him and engulfed him in a huge hug before realising how dirty he was. "Ugh! You're completely covered in disgusting stuff!"

"Thanks," Ron said weakly, choking for air. "Let go."

Hermione stepped back and took out her wand. "_Scourgify."_

The dirt was gone. Ron straightened up, smiling as he took a few deep breaths. "Phew. Hi, Hermione, how are you?"

"Good!" Hermione said happily, leaning over and kissing him on the cheek exuberantly. "I'm so happy to see you! How was your holiday?"

"Alright," Ron said, shrugging. "Could've been more exciting, I suppose. How was yours?"

"Excellent! I finished all my homework in the first month, then Mum and Dad took me to Australia for two weeks! Look at my tan! And, oh Ron, I missed you!" Hermione suddenly threw herself into Ron's arms. "I've taken you for granted all this time, Ron, and it just suddenly hit me while I was lazing on Bondi Beach in Sydney, I really appreciate you!"

"Er..." Ron was at a loss for words, though felt much pleased. "Thanks!"

Hermione disentangled herself from his arms, smiling up at him. "Let's go find your family!"

"Sure!" Ron agreed, ears ringing pleasantly and a crimson blush creeping up his neck. "Um... where's Harry?"

"Oh, he and Ginny went off ages ago to do something," Hermione said airily. "Come on, look, there's your mum!" She took off still attached to Ron's hand, so he was forced to jog along behind her.

"Oh, there you are, Ronald!" Molly said, eyeing his hand attached to Hermione's. "Where did you go?"

"Knockturn Alley," Ron said sheepishly, letting go of Hermione's hand surreptitiously. "It's alright, Mum, honestly, it was a mistake! I got out of there really quickly."

Molly covered her mouth in shock. "Are... are you alright? Did you see anyone? Did you talk to anyone? Did anyone see you down there?" She fussed over him, brushing dirt off his clothes and patting his hair back into place. Ron swatted at her.

"Mum!"

"Oh, it's fine, Molly," Arthur said fondly, coming over and draping an arm across her shoulders. "He looks fine, and he's got Hermione to look after him now."

"Yes, thank goodness you found him, Hermione," Molly said, smiling fondly at the brown-haired girl. "You do look after Ron well. Well, let's go into Madam Malkin's – Ron, you'll need a new dress robe for this year."

Hermione giggled beside him. Ron groaned.


	9. The Encounter With His Lips

**Chapter Nine**

_**The Encounter With His Lips**_

Ginny wasn't sure if she'd ever felt happier in her life. She was walking through Diagon Alley with the single-most handsome boy in the whole world, and he was hers for at least two hours. People were looking at them curiously. Ginny fancied to herself that it was because they were such a good looking couple, but likely it was because of Harry and his legendary scar. She didn't give the scar or the prophecy much thought these days. All of her thoughts focused on Harry himself.

"So..." Harry said, coming slowly to a stop and turning to look at Ginny. "What would you like to do now?"

Ginny smiled blissfully at him. "Anything you like."

"Uh..." Harry looked about him. "How about an ice-cream?"

"Sure!" Ginny agreed happily, following his lead and crossing the road to Florean Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlour.

Harry paid for their ice-creams, over Ginny's protesting, and found them a table to sit at near the back. The parlour was fairly crowded, as was to be expected during the last week of August. Ginny licked at her ice-cream, savouring the blueberry taste as it melted in her mouth. She looked up at Harry to discover him grinning at her.

"What?" Ginny asked through a mouthful of blueberry. She blushed.

"Nothing," Harry laughed. "Just think you look awfully cute with ice-cream on your nose!"

Ginny's blush spread further. "Oh, I don't!" She rubbed at her nose frantically, and to her horror, discovered a blob of ice-cream. "Oh," Ginny moaned dramatically. "How embarrassing!"

"Nah," Harry said, licking at his chocolate cone. "Awfully adorable, Gin."

"Am not," Ginny pouted. Harry laughed.

"Whatever you reckon, Ginny."

Ginny stole a peek at Harry as he ate. She sighed softly to herself, loving the way the sunshine glinted in his hair, and the way his eyes crinkled in the corners when he laughed, and the way he automatically adjusted his glasses without even thinking about it, and... ah, just everything.

"Have I got some on my nose too?" Harry asked amusedly, watching Ginny study his face.

"Oh... no, no," Ginny said hastily, turning her attention back to her ice-cream. "Just... nothing."

"Right-o," Harry said cheerfully, crunching on the last of his cone. "So tell me something interesting, Ginny."

"Like what?" she asked, reaching the top of her cone. "How did you finish so quickly?"

"I'm male," Harry said knowledgably, tapping the side of his nose. "We eat quickly."

Ginny laughed. "I had noticed you were male, actually, Harry."

"Had you?" Harry winked at her. "Really, Ginny, I was beginning to think you hadn't noticed I was male, given all the outward hints."

"That I hadn't noticed you were male?" Ginny repeated, her hearting start to beat faster. "Like... how?"

"Like... I'm totally messing with your mind," Harry grinned suddenly. "Nearly finished?"

_At Madam Malkin's_

"Mum!" Ron moaned. "I don't want to wear puce!"

"It looks lovely," Molly said, giving him an evil look. Hermione made appropriate approval noises. Ron shot her a glowering look.

"It looks hideous," Ron said rudely.

Madam Malkin looked taken aback. "Then what do you want to wear?" she demanded curtly. "I haven't got all day to attend to your whims!"

"Ronald!" Molly leant over and pinched Ron's ear. "Don't be so rude!" she hissed.

Ron's ears burned. _Would this never end?_ "Have you got any green?" he asked Madam Malkin.

"Green?" Hermione looked horrified. "You want to look like a Slytherin?"

"Nothing wrong with green," a familiar voice drawled from behind Hermione. "It's quite becoming on the better-looking among us."

The tall, lanky figure of Draco Malfoy appeared from behind Hermione. Ron made a gagging sound.

"Ill, Weasley?" Draco enquired coolly. "Perhaps you'd better go home. Shopping for dress robes is obviously something you're not accustomed to."

"Oh, sod off!" Ron shot back.

Molly gave Ron a warning look, but remained silent. Hermione crossed her arms and exhaled slowly.

"Good afternoon, Malfoy," she said, with real effort. "Have you had an enjoyable summer?"

"Hermione!" Ron said, shocked. _Befriending the enemy!_

"Yes," Draco said, eyeing Ron's puce robes with distaste. "It was fantastic. I trust yours was as well. Weasley," he said smoothly, "those robes positively do not suit you at all."

Ron was seething.

"I suggest you try those ones over there." Draco pointed at a rather nice midnight blue robe with silver-grey trim and raised his eyebrow mockingly at Ron. "It'll set off your eyes. Later, Granger." He sauntered over to the other side of the shop where a very attractive blonde lady stood, perusing the more expensive labels with apparent distaste.

Madam Malkin's eyes brightened at the sight of the lady. "Excuse me," she said hurriedly, and rushed over to greet who could only be Narcissa Malfoy.

Molly's eyes narrowed as she watched Madam Malkin rush off. "Only a Malfoy would make such a recommendation!"

Ron felt confused. "What recommendation?"

"Oh," Molly sighed. "The robes he has suggested are actually quite nice and would really suit you, Ron."

"But he suggested them with a hint of malice," Hermione added helpfully.

"So you can either go with the puce ones you don't like that Malfoy didn't suggest," Molly went on, "Or you can go with the midnight blue and take the risk that Malfoy will tell all and sundry that you took his fashion advice."

"Which he will," Hermione confirmed Ron's train of thought. "What'll it be?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "I wanted green," he said mournfully. "Isn't there green?"

"Oooh," Hermione said, pulling another robe out. "Look at this! And it's red... a Gryffindor colour," she said with extra emphasis. "Far more appropriate for a Gryffindor prefect."

"Alright, alright," Ron muttered, pulling off the puce robe. "At least it's not the colour of vomit."

"What was that?" Molly's voice rang out from behind another rack.

"Nothing," Ron said, taking the crimson robe. He held it against himself and studied his reflection in the mirror. "What do you think?"

"Fabulous," Hermione said, smiling.

"Much better," Molly approved.

"Then we'll take this one." Ron headed for the counter. "I'm sick of shopping. Let's go and find Harry."

Hermione and Molly exchanged a look behind Ron's back.

"I need some more quills and ink," Hermione volunteered quickly as Molly said, "I was thinking about getting a cat."

"What?" Ron gave them a look of disbelief. "You're kidding, right?"

"No," both women said in unison.

"Desperately need another quill," Hermione said decisively. "Right now."

"And I'd love a cat," Molly said. "I need someone to cuddle while you and Ginny are away."

"You have the twins," Ron said suspiciously. "And Dad."

"Nothing compares to your hugs, Ron," Molly sighed.

Hermione giggled. Ron frowned in embarrassment.

"Mum!"

"Come along, come along," Molly said. "We'll pay for these, then duck over to Flourish and Blotts... then to get the cat, and then find Arthur, wherever he's got to, he might like a spot of late lunch; then perhaps we could stop by the Quidditch store..."

"Quidditch!" Ron said. "I visit that place with Harry!"

"Oh, Harry," Molly said quickly, dismissing him with a gesture of her fingers. "You'll see him later. Where has Madam Malkin got to?" She craned her neck to see.

Ron felt a bit put out. He couldn't understand why they wanted to do all those other things rather than see Harry. They had to have gone mad, he decided, and it was his job to talk them out of it. At this rate, he wouldn't see Harry until they got back to Hogwarts!

_Out in the street_

"Ginny!" Harry roared with laughter, causing many people to stare. "Stop it, honestly! You shouldn't be telling me this stuff, Ron'll kill you!"

The pretty redhead gave him a cheeky grin and shrugged. "What he doesn't know won't hurt him," she teased.

Harry returned her smile. "Fair enough," he agreed, still laughing. "Still, the thought of Ron throwing a tantrum over something like that is appalling."

"That's Ron for you." Ginny scrunched up her nose in an obvious imitation of Ron's tantrum. "But Mummm, I wa-wa-wanted that piece! Wahhh!"

Harry doubled over with laughter, grabbing onto Ginny's arm in an effort to stay upright. She giggled, and tried to pull him up. He shivered inwardly at her touch, trying to regain some control over himself and, without thinking, straightened himself so that he was mere centimeters away from her face. She blushed, looking away from him. He reached out and took hold her chin, tilting her face to look at him.

"What do you say," Harry said quietly, "that we find somewhere nice to sit down for awhile before meeting up with the others?"

Ginny met his gaze, her blue eyes framed by dark lashes that flicked up against her brow bone as she opened her mouth to respond. Harry moved his fingers so that they touched her lips and she stopped the words before they left her mouth, her forehead starting to furrow. Before giving it another thought, Harry bent his head down toward her face and touched his lips to hers. She stood perfectly still. Harry could taste watermelon lip-gloss. He drew away from her and looked down into her eyes again. She didn't look too perturbed, which Harry took to be a good sign.

"You want to?" he asked softly. Ginny nodded. He kissed her lips again softly and took her hand, turning around to lead the way to a spot he knew of behind the Leaky Cauldron where they could have some peace and quiet for a few moments. The sight of a familiar blonde head stopped him in his tracks, and he drew Ginny closer to him protectively.

"Finally got her as your girlfriend, do you, Potter?" Draco Malfoy asked, his eyebrows raised as he regarded the pair. A tall blonde woman behind him sniffed as she looked at Harry and tightened her grip on some shopping bags.

"Shut up!" Ginny said suddenly, startling Harry. He glanced down at her incensed expression before looking back at Malfoy.

"Ouch," Malfoy drawled sarcastically, taking a few steps closer to them. "You really hurt me, Weasley." He stopped in front of them and leant in, winking. "You hurt me right here." He placed one hand over his heart before drawing a finger up slowly to his lips and pointing to his mouth. "Or was it... here?" He pretended to kiss the air.

"Oh, shut up, Malfoy!" Harry said angrily. "Sod off!"

"Poor Potty," Draco said lazily. "Starved of affection, no doubt, being an orphan and all. Well, you'd have to be to settle for a freckled redhead, wouldn't you?" He smirked. "Freckles. Honestly."

"Watch your mouth, Malfoy," Harry said tightly, willing himself not to lose his composure.

"You sure you want me to?" Draco tilted his head. "I could help you, you know. Give you relationship pointers. Starting with: dumping the weasel."

Harry pressed his lips together and didn't reply. He couldn't. He was seething with rage.

"It's been a pleasure, Potter," Draco said lightly before turning to head toward the blonde woman.

"Hurry, Draco!" she urged, giving Ginny and Harry a disgusted look.

"Coming, Mother," Draco said, before throwing a sarcastic kissey-face back at Harry and Ginny.

Harry's ears burned. Marvelous job he'd done of defending Ginny, there. He realised that he was still clutching Ginny to him and shifted guiltily.

"Come on," he said disgustedly, staring after Draco with malice. "Prat. Let's go and sit down."

Ginny gazed mutely after Draco, her hand growing hot in Harry's. She bit her lip, willing herself not to cry. _"Starting with: dumping the weasel..."_ She could feel herself tensing up, her hands starting to shake. She dropped his hand and stared at the ground, unable to find the means by which to express herself.

Harry looked down at her briefly. She looked annoyed. He cringed. She probably didn't want to go anywhere with him now. He shook his head, trying to cover his humiliation.

"I guess we should find your family, actually. This way. I think I saw them go into Flourish and Blotts." He started toward the store, glancing back to see she hadn't moved. "You coming or what?" Ginny didn't reply. "Whatever, I'll see you when you join back up with us." He left.

_At the pet store_

"You have got to be kidding me!" Ron stared in disgust at the fluffy brown cat that was mooching up to Mrs. Weasley. "It's the ugliest thing I've ever seen!"

The cat bristled at his harsh tone, turning to hiss at him.

"God, it's even uglier than Crookshanks," he muttered. Hermione dropped his hand quickly, shooting him a furious glance. "Kidding," he said morosely. "Are you sure you want this thing to replace me?" He directed his question to his mother.

"Isn't she sweet?" Molly cooed, stroking the cat's back. "She's positively adorable. I've almost completely made up my mind!" She beamed at the pair. "She's just lovely."

"She is quite beautiful," Hermione agreed, still shooting dark glances Ron's way.

"Bah," Ron said, turning to look out at the road. He brightened as he saw a familiar figure making his way toward the shop. "Harry!"

Both Molly and Hermione swiveled to see.

"Oh," Molly said, sounding surprised. "I wonder what he's doing."

"He shouldn't be back yet..." Hermione frowned.

"He's coming to see me!" Ron said, staring at them in disbelief. "Nothing pleases you lot, does it? He hasn't seen me all ruddy summer, has he? Harry, lad!" he bellowed, stepping toward the door.

Harry stepped through the door, his face lighting up in recognition.

"Ron!" Harry embraced his friend. "It's fantastic to see you! How you've been?"

The bell tinkled on the door softly, and Ginny slipped through the gap. She ignored Harry greeting Ron as she stepped over to Hermione and her mother.

"Would've been a lot bloody better if I'd known how my best friend was," Ron grumbled. "You?

"Brilliant!" Harry said obliviously, watching Ginny hug Molly and Hermione. Ron turned to see Hermione drop a kiss to Ginny's forehead and whisper something to her. He frowned.

"Haven't you seen Ginny yet, 'Mione?" he asked.

Hermione looked up. "Yeah, saw her earlier," she said.

"Do you always kiss her when you see her?" Ron asked, amused.

Ginny shot her brother an annoyed look. "Shut up, Ron!"

Ron withdrew. "Whatever. So Harry! Where've you been all this time that Ginny's been hogging you? Did you go to the Quidditch shop yet? I can't wait to go! Let's go now! You lot can catch us up!" he yelled over his shoulder as he tugged Harry away from the group and out the door.

Ginny watched the pair leave.

"So what happened?" Hermione asked eagerly. "Did you get to tell him how you feel?"

Ginny shot a glance at her mother. "Sort of."

"Ooh!" Hermione exclaimed. "What, what, what?"

"Nothing," Ginny said quietly. "I'll tell you later. What are you looking at in here?"

"Oh," Molly said, turning her attention back to the cat. "What do you think, Gin? I want to call her Sara."


	10. I'm On My Way To Misery & Happiness

**Chapter Ten**

_**I'm On My Way to Misery and Happiness Today**_

Ginny sat quietly in her compartment of the Hogwarts train, staring out at the window. Droplets of water splashed against the pane as it rained heavily outside. Ginny couldn't ever remember a time when it had rained during the send-off to Hogwarts but it was London, after all. The weather was usually rotten.

Ginny sighed and stretched her arms out, leaning back into the seat. Cases and pet carry boxes surrounded her as she savoured her last few moments of privacy and solitude before the rest of the group returned. Ron and Hermione had to help shepherd the first years on board, and Harry was trailing after them. Luna was nowhere to be seen and none of the other Gryffindors had bothered to pop their heads in to say hello. Her brow furrowed and she settled deeper into her bad mood. She opened her carry bag, taking out the book she was reading. _Men Are From Mars... Women Are From Venus_. It hadn't been much else but amusing so far. Funny ideas that Muggles have about themselves.

She turned a page as the door to the compartment slid open and Harry burst in.

"Ginny!" he smiled exuberantly at her. "Hello!"

Ginny glanced at him, surprised. He'd already greeted her at the train station, albeit less enthusiastically. "Uh... hi again, Harry."

"Wotcha reading?" he asked companionably, sitting next to her.

"A Muggle book," she answered him, closing it and putting it back in her bag before he could see the title. She didn't need him to tease her about that, of all things. "What're you doing back in here?"

Harry pretended to be affronted. "Well, I had planned to sit in here for the whole journey, you know!" he laughed.

Ginny smiled politely. _Yeah, with Ron and Hermione so you can all chat away happily and aimlessly while I sit here and pine away for you. _

"Fair enough," Ginny replied, glancing away from him to look back out at the window. "Is the train nearly ready to go?"

As if in response to her question, the already-humming engine spluttered and revved higher. A loud screeching noise was heard as the brakes were released, and the train started moving slowly away from the platform.

"Oh," Ginny murmured. "I guess that answers the question."

Harry had been inching along the seat toward Ginny while she gazed out of the window. He loved the way that her hair sat on her shoulders. He was leaning closer and closer to it when the sliding door opened. Abruptly, he moved back. Ginny hadn't noticed.

"Harry!" Ron came in, beaming and red-faced with exertion. "Gawd, those first years have got some luggage between 'em, haven't they? Jeez!" He flopped onto the seat next to them. "I reckon I must have carried fifty tons of darned socks in carry bags!"

"Slight exaggeration," Hermione amended as she came in behind him. She sat down next to Ron and smiled excitedly at Ginny. "Isn't it great that we're back on our way again?"

"Sure is," Ginny said, trying to smile.

"It's fantastic!" Harry agreed. "I was going out of my mind all summer. Can't believe the time for freedom has arrived!"

"Freedom?" Ron mocked him.

Harry flushed. "Well, at least I'll be allowed out of my room at Hogwarts," he said. Ron laughed.

"One day, I swear, Harry... those Muggles won't know what hit them," he said, his expression turning serious. "When we're Aurors... we'll go and show 'em who's boss."

Harry shrugged. "I'd rather just not see them again, y'know?"

"Oh yeah," Ron said, nodding. "That's fair enough too, Harry. Hey. HEY!" he bellowed. "NEVILLE! WE'RE IN HERE, MATE!"

Neville poked his head around the door worriedly. "Oh, there you are!" he said in relief. "I thought I could hear someone calling out."

"Calling out?" Hermione asked sweetly. "Or shouting loud enough to be heard at the South Pole?" She rubbed her ear ruefully, glaring at Ron, who grinned, his enthusiasm obvious. He leaned over and poked her in the stomach, tickling her.

"Poor 'Mione," Ron said teasingly as Hermione laughed helplessly.

Neville regarded the pair unblinkingly. "Well," he said at last, "Guess I won't interrupt that little interlude." He turned around and started dragging in a big trunk. "Can yer give me a hand, Harry?" he puffed.

Harry got up and helped Neville maneuver his trunk into the overhead locker, stepping on Ginny's toe in the process and not noticing.

"Thanks!" Neville grunted and sat down next to Ginny. "How's it going, Gin?"

Her toe smarting, Ginny blinked back the tears threatening to spill over. She swallowed thickly and smiled at Neville. "Fine, thanks, Nev. How was your summer?"

"Oh, yeah, really good!" Neville said. "Gran took me to see this awesome toad exhibition in London! We saw all these really fantastic toads. There's so many different species! I think Trevor got a bit jealous of all the attention I was giving them, weren't you, Trevvy?"

Ginny jumped as Neville pulled his toad out of the pocket closest to her. "Oh, sorry," Neville said, frowning at her reaction. "Didn't mean to scare you."

"It doesn't matter," Ginny said. She tuned out of the conversation and resumed her gazing out of the window at the rolling countryside whizzing by the window. She couldn't remember ever taking so much notice of the coloured patterns of the summer trees. Green, yellow, green, yellow, green, green, a hint of orange, green, green... She sighed softly as she saw the miles outstretched before her. Ages to go.


	11. Harry's Turn

**Chapter Eleven**

_**Harry's Turn**_

Harry stared down at the Transfiguration essay and wondered when it all stopped making sense. The words on the page were starting to crawl and he couldn't remember whether he could see better with his glasses on or off anymore. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and glanced at the clock. Eleven o'clock. Not exactly late but late enough so that he'd had enough of homework. He glanced at Hermione across the table. She'd already written six pages worth of notes in the two hours that they'd been working. He looked down at his own effort of a page and a half and sighed loudly. Subjects just weren't getting any easier as he progressed further in his education, that was for sure.

"Harry!" Hermione tapped him on the arm with her quill. "Finally! Did you ever zone out or what?"

"Sorry," Harry said, drawing his attention back to her. "I'm just finding it hard to pay attention these days."

"Really," Hermione said, chewing on her quill thoughtfully. "Depressed?"

"No! I... uh..." Harry thought about it. "I don't think so..."

"Unhappy, then?" Hermione suggested. When Harry frowned, she amended it. "As in, not unhappy but just not happy and bubbly?"

"Oh." Harry shrugged. "I guess."

"I see." Hermione was silent for a moment before trying again. "Girl troubles?"

Harry's head snapped up. "No!"

It was Hermione's turn to shrug. "I see a lot of girls get depressed like you over boys. I mean, not depressed. Just not 'happy and bubbly'." There was a glint of mirth in her eye.

Harry sighed and threw his quill at her, missing spectacularly and landing behind her. "Good thing I'm not a Beater," he quipped sourly, retrieving his quill.

"Indeed," Hermione smiled. "What's up, though? Can I help?"

Harry sat back down in his seat and gazed at her squarely. "I dunno. I guess I'm just not chirpy or whatever. It's okay. I'll be fine."

"Okay," Hermione said, after a pause. "Well, I wanted to study with you for a reason, Harry."

"Yes," Harry said, after a moment's hesitation, openly mocking her attitude. "And?"

"Don't be funny," Hermione snapped. "I wanted to talk to you about Ginny."

"Ginny," Harry repeated slowly. He glanced around the common room and saw to his relief that they were the only ones there. "What about Ginny?"

"Well," Hermione said quietly. "She's been really down these last couple of weeks, and I wondered if you wanted to be in on a plan to make her feel better."

"A plan," Harry said suspiciously. "Go on."

"Well, I haven't thought of one yet!" Hermione said impatiently. "I just wanted to know what you thought!"

"Oh," Harry said, leaning back in his chair. "Well, I dunno."

"Oh, thanks," Hermione said sarcastically. "You're so helpful."

"Well..." Harry spread his hands. "What am I supposed to say? I dunno what to do about her."

Hermione glowered at him. "Haven't you got it yet?"

"What?" Harry was confused. "What am I supposed to get? I don't know every little thing about the inner-workings of Ginny's mind; I've no idea what's wrong with her."

"Oh, Harry, honestly!" Hermione stood up and began gathering her belongings. "If you haven't figured it out by now, then you can just wallow in your misery."

"What?" Harry stood up and grabbed her arm, preventing her from packing. "What are you on about?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "That was me trying to be subtle and tell you that Ginny is pining away after you in her bedroom day in, day out because you kissed her at Diagon Alley and then left her cold, but no, Harry Potter, you're just too dense to notice, aren't you!"

She snatched her arm away and finished packing while Harry stood, silent. He seemed to have lost his voice. His mouth kept opening and closing but no sound came out. Hermione rolled her eyes and started to head toward the girls' stairs.

"Wait!" Harry's voice came out in a squeak. Blushing, he looked down at the ground while Hermione made a show of turning around impatiently.

"Yes?" she enquired.

"Uh..." Harry stuttered. "How... how did you know that we... that I... um... about that?"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," Hermione muttered. "If that's the only part about what I said that's bothering you, Harry, honestly..." She turned and stomped up the stairs, still muttering to herself. Her footsteps echoed in the empty common room as Harry sank back down on his chair.

The portrait hole swung open suddenly and Harry jumped. Neville and Ron entered, talking animatedly.

"That's not the way you're supposed to do it, Neville, I swear! You have to breathe in the scent of the tea as you swish it for the affinity with the leaves, remember?" Ron rolled his eyes.

"She didn't say that!" Neville protested. "She said to swish the cup like it says in 'Unfogging the Future' and then read the leaves, not smell them!"

"Not smell them, honestly, Neville!" Ron threw up in his hands. "Didn't you listen to her? You have to take notes about what she says in class so you can fudge it in the exam!"

"What?" Neville was about to argue further when he espied Harry at the table. "Harry, hi! You remember what Trelawney said about the tea leaves, right?"

"Sure," Harry replied quietly.

"Yes!" Neville exclaimed. "See, Ron, Harry agrees with me."

"Ron's right," Harry interrupted. "Sorry, Nev."

"Aww, bollocks," Neville groaned. "I'm going to bed." He nodded at Harry and headed up the stairs. Ron came over and sat by Harry, rubbing his temples.

"Long day," he noted.

"Yeah," Harry agreed.

"Bit busy," Ron said, looking at the floor.

"Fridays always are," Harry replied, watching Ron curiously.

"Yeah, good point." Ron looked at the fire. "Nearly out."

"Forgot to stoke it."

"I'll do that." Ron got up and retrieved the poker, stabbing at the wood in an effort to reignite the embers. "Get much study done?"

"A bit," Harry said, idly moving his Transfiguration book on top of and off his Potions workbook. He let it fall to the table from the pile and looked over at Ron. "Hermione just wanted to have a go at me, really."

"Really," Ron said, not looking at Harry. "Wouldn't be about Ginny, would it?"

"Yeah," Harry said, surprised. "How'd you know? She didn't say she'd talked to you about it."

"She didn't," Ron replied, watching a tiny flame lick at the orange embers. "But I'm not stupid."

"Eh?"

Ron turned to look at Harry. "Come on, Harry, she's my sister. I'd notice if she was moping around for weeks on end, wouldn't I?" He got up and sat at the table again. "She is my sister, after all. I didn't spend ten years playing around the Burrow with her to not know when she's hung up over a guy."

"Ah," Harry said, feeling guilty. "Sorry. I didn't mean to imply that."

Ron waved it away. "Doesn't matter. I probably don't pay her as much attention as I should, but that doesn't mean I don't care, Harry. I do, y'know." He looked Harry in the eye. "I care about her very deeply. If she were ever hurt, y'know... I'd be really crabby. Yeah." He let his gaze drop away. "In fact, if anyone ever hurt her, I'd pound the bastard into a pulp. But we won't go into that, eh?" He smiled at Harry. "I know you'd be the first person to stand by me. And her, o'course, right?"

"Of course..." Harry said slowly.

"Yeah," Ron nodded wisely. "I knew you'd see things my way, Harry. I'm glad we have this understanding."

"Ron..." Harry began. "I don't..."

"'Course, it'd be better if she wasn't so depressed all the time, but what can ya do, Harry? Nothing, eh? Women. Always moping around about something or another. If that's one thing I've learnt from having a sister, Harry, it's that they can always find something to complain about and if you don't give the right response they'll get cranky for days."

"Yeah," Harry said, wondered where all this was going.

"But still," Ron stretched, yawning openly. "We'll just have to give Neville a good talking-to in the morning and let him know that he needs to put Gin out of her misery, y'know? I mean, it's getting ridiculous. I took him away tonight while Hermione filled you in. She didn't have to ask, but I knew. It's not right. Neville's a great bloke and all, but what he's doing is wrong. He shouldn't build Ginny's hopes up like that. Still, what can you do with the drunken sailor?" Ron gave Harry a lopsided grin. "'Bout time for bed, innit? I'll see ya up there." He got up and went upstairs.

As soon as Harry heard the bedroom click shut, he erupted in gales of silent laughter. _Neville! _He thought, wiping tears from his eyes. _Good grief._


	12. Mia Bella

**Chapter Twelve**

_**Mia Bella**_

Ginny stared at the piece of parchment in her hand. Her hand was shaking. It was the worst and best letter she'd ever received in her entire life. The happiness she felt presented frightening prospects, and the sadness she felt stemmed from humiliation of his direct honesty. It wasn't right. No man should have such a gift with words. Ginny cast her eyes down the parchment, searching for a missed sentence that would help tame the craziness going on inside of her. Nothing. She dropped the parchment and threw herself on her bed, face-down on the pillow, her body wracked with silent sobs that seemed as though they would never end. What right did he have to say those kinds of things to her? She felt humiliated, used and abused. The tears kept falling. Ginny wasn't sure if she'd ever recover from this.

She screamed into the pillow, her voice echoing inside of her head. The tears were hot on her cheeks and her eyes were stinging from being pressed so closely to the polyester material. She thumped her fist repeatedly on the bed, continuing to scream a torrent of abuse into the pillow. A thought occurred to her and she sat up quickly, blinking away the tears still forming in her eyes. She reached out a shaky hand for her wand. _"Silencio," _she whispered, before letting the wand slip through her fingers. She fell back onto the bed and gazed blankly upwards, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. Nothing made any sense anymore. How could he have written all that? It was almost nonsensical, the way he'd gone on about how he felt about her. She wasn't sure if he hated her or if he loved her! She felt the familiar prickling in her eyes again and sighed, rolling onto her side. She'd have to answer him, of course. She just wasn't sure if she knew how.

Ginny hesitated, then reached over to her nightstand and pulled out a loose sheet of parchment. Dipping her quill into her new ink bottle, she furrowed her brow, clueless as how to start the letter. _"Dear Harry, Thank you for ruining my life. Much love, Ginny Weasley. xxx"_ Hardly appropriate. She pressed the nib of the quill to the parchment, letting the ink blot until a large, dark splotch appeared. She sighed, and sketched downwards to turn it into an elaborate side margin.

_Dear Harry,_

_Or should I say, 'To The Boy Who Made Me Very Unhappy'? I think it'd be more appropriate, somehow. I wonder why that would be... how that could possibly be? Hmm. Let me think. What on earth have you done lately to make me feel like that? Well, aside from the obvious, I mean; ignoring me, not mentioning Diagon Alley, talking to Hermione about me and, oh yeah, did I mention ignoring me? Aside from all that? Huh. I don't know. Maybe it was a particular LETTER I received this afternoon, which proceeded much along the lines of this, in short: _

'_Dear Ginny, I'm a very confused little boy, I don't know what to say; I wish I could find the words to say what I feel. I don't know what to say. I'm very confused. I wish I knew what to say to you. You've lit up my life in so many ways and made it darker in so many others. I wish I knew how to say this. I'm so confused. Maybe this is what love is all about. I'm so confused. I don't know anything anymore. Forgive me for anything I have done. Yours always, Harry."_

_Bearing in mind, of course, that that rendition was simply a shortened version of the other, more elaborate letter. _

_Forgive me, too, Harry, for not having a clue about what you were trying to say in your letter. Indeed, forgive me for entirely misinterpreting your 'confused' status for 'hating Ginny' status these past many weeks. Also, maybe you could try to forgive me for not understanding that your silence was merely your way of expressing yourself to me in not so many words. I must be as confused as you, Harry; because try as I might, I can't figure you the hell out. _

_Just stay away from me. You've ruined my life enough already for one year._

_Ginny._

_Downstairs_

"I don't know, Hermione," Harry said, pulling his arm back, squinting, adjusting his glasses and letting the dart fly. "Whoa—no! A bit to the—no, don't hit—oh, it's gonna—score!"

"An excellent shot, Harry," Hermione applauded him, smiling warmly.

Ron looked up from the Quidditch magazine she was reading. "She influenced it again."

"I did not!"

"Hermione!" Harry groaned. "I wanted a game of darts to relax me, not teach me how terrible I am at darts!"

"That was a good shot!" Hermione protested.

"'Mione," Ron said smugly, "if your magical powers can only influence Harry to get the outer ring, I shudder to think how he'd fare if you weren't here."

Harry aimed a dart at Ron's head.

"Duck, Neville," Ron advised the boy sitting next to him.

Harry broke into laughter. "I can't be that bad, surely."

"There's a reason you're not a Beater," Ron said tactfully. "Mostly that reason has to do with audience safety."

"Yeah, yeah," Harry rolled his eyes. He squinted at the dartboard again. "Far out, that really was a terrible shot."

Hermione nodded. "Abysmal, even."

"It's a fact." Harry sank down onto the nearest seat and sighed. "What a lousy, lousy day."

"Week," Ron interjected.

"Month," Hermione said gloomily.

"I get the feeling I'm supposed to say 'year' right about now," Neville said thoughtfully.

Harry sighed again. "I didn't even reread it, Hermione. I just sealed it and gave it to Hedwig. I could have said anything. I honestly don't remember what I wrote."

"Subconscious writing," Neville said knowledgably. "Trelawney was talking about it yesterday."

"Maybe," Hermione said. "More than likely 'angry and upset writing' but whatever."

Neville got up and went outside.

"Your bad mood is affecting us all," Ron said glumly, putting down the Quidditch magazine.

"It was Ginny's to start with," Hermione reminded him.

"Because of Harry," Ron said succinctly. "Not Neville."

"True, true," Harry agreed, trying to hide a smile. "But now I've written a letter of some description. Surely that will help."

"Depends what you wrote," Ron remarked. "If you said, 'Hi, Ginny, listen, about this whole us kissing thing and me leading you on for weeks and making you all miserable, well, hey, I've been thinking about it and you know what? I don't look good with redheads;" well, that mightn't go down so well."

"I highly doubt I said that," Harry groaned. "Thanks for the support."

"Any time." Ron got up. "Going to follow Neville now."

Harry hit his head against the desk. "Not a good sign."

There was a rustle of wings above. Hedwig soared into the room from an open window and flew into Harry's lap, nudging his stomach and pecking at his arm.

"Hedwig!" Harry stroked the bird. "Food?" He dug into his pocket for a treat. "Here ya go!" He patted the bird's head and she flew off again.

"Wonder where Crookshanks is," Hermione mused.

"Stalking something, no doubt," Harry said, looking down at his lap. Hedwig had dug her claws in a bit more than usual this time. "Hey, a letter!"

He broke the seal and tore it open, skimming it quickly. "Uh-oh."

"What?" Hermione asked worriedly.

Harry shook his head. "Is sarcasm a good thing from girls?"

Hermione frowned. "Generally, no."

Harry's face fell. "Then this isn't good."


	13. The Letter

**Chapter Thirteen**

_**The Letter**_

_Ginny,_

_I'm so sorry that you took what I said the wrong way. I just wrote everything that I was feeling; basically just poured out my entire heart on paper, folded it, sealed it, wrote your name on it and gave it to Hedwig. I'm sorry. I should have reread it... but then again, you're the only person in the world that I trust enough to give my subconscious thought to. _

_I guess what I'm trying to say is that I wanted to be completely honest with you. There's so much going on inside my head and I can't make head nor tail of it. I thought that if I just wrote and wrote and wrote, eventually it might make sense. You deserve to know everything I'm thinking, Gin, 'cause mostly everything I think about is to do with you. You're just always there. You're in my house, you're on my team, you're in my favourite family, you live with me, you eat with me, you cheer on Quidditch teams with me and you talk to me like I'm a real person. I don't know, Gin. This is starting to sound like some really, really soppy love letter, isn't it? Words can't actually express what I feel. I've never been good at letter-writing and I guess I'll say that's because I never had anyone to write to. Words are inadequate. I don't have Hermione's brains to summon the right ones to me. What I feel goes beyond words, Ginny. In these last couple of months, you have become one of the people that I care about most in the whole wide world, Wizarding and Muggle; and that means something to me._

_You don't have to agree with me and say polite things to me to make me feel better about being so brutally honest with you. You don't have even have to reply. I mean, I'd really like it if you did because if you didn't, I'd always wonder what you thought and shudder to myself about your reaction while I'm trying to get to sleep at night and stuff... but, please consider replying. And be honest! Be honest like I've been honest with you. I've bared my heart and soul to you on paper. Maybe it hasn't felt like that in person, but I have. That kiss we shared in Diagon Alley... man. That blew my mind. It's what I've wanted to do for I don't know how long. It's hard to know when my feelings shifted from a favourite friend to a beloved one, but it's felt like an age. That kiss was completely phenomenal. You're so pretty when you're happy, and you looked pretty happy to me then. That's all I want. To make you smile like that again and again so I can kiss you over and over._

_But then... no, I won't write about it now. We both know that our moment was cut short by a particular blonde fiend not worth mentioning on parchment in case someone finds it in a hundred years and thinks that he was part of the story. We need to discuss it. I'm sorry I froze you out afterwards. I was... no, I won't go into it. I really want to talk to you, Ginny. In person. I want to explain and apologise and talk and hold hands and smile and kiss and be with you but I'm getting ahead of myself. Please say that you'll meet with me so that we can talk and I can apologise properly. You deserve to know._

_Hey, it's raining again. Don't you think that rain spattering on the roof is comforting? It's like a blanket of protection raining down. Or maybe I'm crazy. But, as always, I'm..._

_Yours,_

_Harry._

_The next day_

Ginny chewed her mouthful of eggs thoughtfully. It tasted slightly different this morning, she'd decided. It was possible that the house elves were getting eggs from different hens this week. Maybe that was it. She swallowed and considered the aftertaste. Definitely different.She'd just started on the toast when the mail arrived.

"Mail!" Neville said.

Ginny rolled her eyes. Was it just her, or was he an absolute genius at stating the obvious? He was sweet enough, of course, but a little _simple_ at times.

"Look, Ginny!" Ron elbowed her sharply. "Did you hear _Neville_, Ginny? The mail is here!"

Ginny raised her eyebrow. Ron had been a pain in the butt, too.

"Yes, _Ron_," she said, digging her elbow straight back into his side. "I did hear _Neville_, thanks, and I don't really care as I'm not expecting Mum to write."

Ron sighed as Pigwidgeon landed in front of him. "The Daily Prophet? Is that all you have to offer?" He gave the bird some toast before it flew off.

Ginny's mouthful of toast suddenly didn't taste so great. She decided that it was time to finish up and get ready for a double lesson of Potions. Picking up her knife, she scraped the remainder of her eggs and toast into a neat pile to make it easier for the elves to clean up.

"Whoa!" Ron sounded surprised. Ginny looked up to see Harry's owl, Hedwig, soaring through the Hall. "Harry's not in here, why is Hedwig swooping on dow—no! Hedwig! Don't--"

"Who knows?" Neville asked around a mouthful of egg.

"Whoa, whoa—what? Hey!" Ron yelped. "Hedwig! What do you want?"

The bird had landed on the table and dropped a letter that she was carrying in her beak onto Ginny's plate. The bird blinked at her twice before taking off again. Ginny frowned and looked at the envelope.

_Ginny Weasley_

_The Great Hall_

_Probably Next To Ron_

_(Hi, Ron)_

"What's this?" Ron asked curiously, picking up the letter.

"Um, that's mine, thank you, Ron!" Ginny snatched at the letter. She got up hurriedly and left the hall, brimming over with curiosity. She tore open the seal and leant back against the wall of the corridor to read the letter.

_Ginny,_

_Thanks for your reply. Meet me at the Lake. I know you have class... but I promise that this meeting will be more fun than any old Potions lesson. I'll be waiting._

_Yours,_

_Harry._

Ginny reread the note, hardly believing her eyes. He'd gotten her note and read it? He wanted to see her? And—whoa! He wanted to meet with her! Today! The guy was mad. She felt more annoyed than ever. If he thought that she was going to swoon and fall into his arms, he had another think coming. She was not one to be taken for a ride by any member of the wizarding populace. Of course, it'd be different when she actually met up with him. He just... did something to her. She wasn't sure if it was his eyes or his hair or the ways his cheeks dimpled slightly when he laughed. Or maybe it was his habit of running his hands through his hair in an attempt to straighten it whenever he was nervous. It could also be that sweet smile he gave her occasionally when no one else was looking. Or indeed, perhaps it was the way he wrote his letters to her; full of his thoughts and dreams that he shared with no one else, as if he were writing in a journal. Probably it was the way he signed off: Yours, Harry. Hers? Was he really hers? She sighed, thumping her head back against the wall and rubbing at her arm. She was definitely his.

But, she reflected, that didn't mean that she had to give in so easily. She might change her mind. Who knows? Maybe if she held out long enough, she could convince her heart to move on and find someone else who wasn't a "kiss and run away" type. She tucked the letter into her pocket and started walking along the corridor, nodding to many of the portraits. He had apologised for that in a roundabout sort of way, and planned to offer some kind of excuse when she met up with him at the lake. IF she met up with him at the lake. She wasn't so sure yet. Risk getting detention with Snape just to meet up with Harry so he could say something that she wasn't so sure she wanted to hear? Didn't sound like a picnic to her. She trudged up the stairs, smiling politely at the various students making their way past her. Blow it. She wasn't going to get into trouble with Snape. She'd go to Potions.

She had just picked up her books from her bedside table and was making her way downstairs into the common room when she saw Harry. Her heart froze and she came to a halt on the stairs. He was standing with Ron, joking and laughing. Hermione was nearby, studiously working on an essay. She looked up and waved at Ginny. Ginny managed a smile back. Harry noticed the direction of Hermione's wave and turned to look. His face was a picture of surprise.

"Ginny!" Ron said, noticing her as well. "Going to class?"

Avoiding Harry's stare, Ginny made her way down the stairs. "Yes. Double Potions."

"Eww, rotten luck," Ron said sympathetically. "Want to take a shotgun or something for support?"

Ginny flashed him a smile as she passed him. "Haha. Very funny."

Harry put out his arm and stopped her as she passed him. "Gin."

Her heart tap-dancing of its own accord, Ginny stopped. "Yes?"

Harry smiled tentatively at her. "Going to Potions then?"

"She said that, idiot," Ron remarked, having made his way over to Hermione. Harry shot him a glare before returning his attention to Ginny.

"Are you?" he asked again.

She raised her eyebrow at him, trying to calm her heartbeat. "I seem to be, yeah."

He shrugged, glancing over at Ron, who wasn't paying him the slightest bit of attention. "Will I see you later?"

Ginny frowned. "I don't know."

"Please," he said very quietly.

She sighed softly. "After Potions."

"The Lake?" he asked.

"Sure, okay," she replied, managing a brief smile before heading off to class.


	14. The Rainbow After The Rain

**Chapter Fourteen**

_**The Rainbow After The Rain**_

Ginny approached the lake slowly, her eyes focused on the lone figure sitting on the stone bench next to the water, his back to her. The sun was shining directly onto him; the rain hadn't lasted long. Still, she was willing to bet it'd return before nightfall. The weather was fickle like that in Scotland. Much like England in that respect. She tugged on her scarf, tightening it around her neck, trying to look nonchalant should he spot her and watch her approach. She hated being watched while walking or doing anything that could lead to potential embarrassment: falling over, tripping on imaginary rocks, anything. To be avoided at all costs.

Ginny's feet stepped onto the sandy gravel path that wound around the lake. Harry turned his head at the sound and upon seeing her, smiled. He raised his hand in greeting. Ginny waved back somewhat shyly, feeling her heart pounding faster. The sight of him still set her aflutter.

"Hi, Ginny!" Harry called out.

Ginny slowed down as she neared the bench, offering a wry smile. "Hey, Harry."

Harry stood up and embraced her awkwardly. Ginny, surprised, held onto him for a moment before he stepped back and held her at arms' length, still smiling. His eyes were shining brightly in the daylight and his cheeks were flushed. She wondered if they were flushed because of the cold or because he had just hugged her.

"You look great," he said finally.

Ginny raised an eyebrow, carefully concealing her inner blush. "Thanks."

"No problem!" Harry said with forced brightness. "Care to sit with me?" He gestured toward the seat. Nodding, Ginny sat next to him on the cold stone. Moments passed. She stole a look at him. What was he thinking? Was he hoping to say his piece and then just leave? Hug her again?

"We'll probably get piles if we sit here for too long," Harry remarked thoughtfully. "Cold seat."

Ginny laughed. "Maybe!"

Harry turned to look at her, chuckling to himself.

"What?" Ginny asked curiously.

"Just remembering that," he said, picking up her gloved hand and examining it. "Cold?"

Ginny shook her head. Harry slid her glove off and laid it beside him on the bench, clasping her hand in his.

"There," he said. "That's a bit more comfortable, isn't it?"

Ginny couldn't speak. Instead she nodded again. _Why can't he just talk and get all this awkwardness over and done with?_ She begged silently. _The sooner I know whether or not I have to avoid him for the rest of my life, the better._

"Um," Harry said, breaking the silence, "This is really weird." He gave her a lop-sided smile. "I don't know what I can say to make it easier. I've got so much I want to say to you but I don't know where to start..." he shrugged. "Anything you want to know first?"

Ginny shook her head again, feeling paralysed. She was afraid that if she moved an inch, her hands would start shaking and then Harry would see how nervous she was.

"Are you okay?" he asked. She nodded. "Awfully quiet, Gin." He squeezed her hand. "I guess I would be, too, if I didn't know what I was about to say. Okay. Um. On with it, Potter. Er... well..." he paused, using his free hand to scratch absently at his cheek. "I guess I should tell you about why I didn't talk for you for awhile," he said. "No, actually, blow it. I love you, Ginny."

Ginny stared at him, speechless.

"You..." she trailed off, her voice catching. "You... what?" _Love?_ "Why?"

"Dunno," Harry said, his cheeks flaming red. "I just do. I felt it best to tell you that first." He paused. "Now would be a good time to tell me how you feel, just so I know whether or not I can sit closer to you for the rest of the explanation. But you don't have to," he added hurriedly. "Just in case."

Ginny smiled. "Well..." She wasn't sure what to say. "I... I've always loved you, Harry," she said at last. "You know that."

Harry gazed at her, his green eyes bright. "I had hoped."

She shifted uncomfortably on the seat, acutely aware of her cheeks growing hot. "Well, I would have thought it'd be obvious," she said softly.

"No..." Harry said quietly, taking both of her hands in his and moving nearer to her. "Well... yes, I suppose, but I'd never let myself think that before." His lips stopped a moment before meeting hers. "I'll never forget it now, though." He bent his head closer and touched his lips to hers.

Ginny closed her eyes and let her arms move of their own accord, snaking behind his back and settling against him. She sighed blissfully and kissed him, feeling indescribably happy. Ever since she'd met him, she'd dreamt of this moment and now that it was finally here, she didn't know how to act. _Think about the last few weeks! _she urged herself and broke away from him.

"So you, um, wanted to explain these last few weeks?" Ginny asked, running her tongue quickly over her lips.

Harry moved back, nodding slowly. "Yeah... sorry."

"S'okay," Ginny said quickly. "I just... didn't want to get carried away before we got everything sorted out."

"Yeah, right, of course," Harry said. "Well, to be honest, when... well, when we kissed in Diagon Alley..." he blushed. "Um... and then Malfoy interrupted. Well, to be honest, I was completely angry with him, for suggesting that I'd be starved of affection and for insulting the one I love best." He squeezed her hand. "It just... it really pissed me off. I couldn't speak for rage. And... and then he buggered off and I suddenly realised that I hadn't defended you at all to him, and that you must've gotten the wrong impression about that and then the silence grew bigger so I just... I chickened out. I left it alone and hoped it'd get better on its own and that'd you understand without me saying anything. Except I don't think you did. And that's fair enough. I was too... embarrassed, I guess, to make it better."

Harry squeezed her fingers gently. "I'm sorry, that was the wrong thing to do. I'm not very good at this sort of thing, in case you hadn't noticed."

Ginny smiled faintly. "No, that's fine... it all makes sense now."

"Really?" Harry asked, seemingly surprised. She nodded. "So I'm forgiven?"

"Yes," she said, laughing. "You're forgiven."

Harry grinned and bent to kiss her again. She pulled away, raising her eyebrows.

"First, Harry," she said sweetly, "you need to promise me that you'll always defend my honour to Malfoy."

"Always," he said, smiling.

"Always?" she asked.

"Always," he affirmed with a nod.

"Okay," she said. "You may kiss me."

**THE END**


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